Weekly graphic. [volume] (Kirksville, Adair Co., Missouri) 1880-1949, 1887-05-20

And no tone from the organ can swell on tn
breeze
Till the orsanist's fingers press down on tn
keys.
So come then and welcome the blow and tn
pain,
without them no mortal canHesven attain,
For what can the sheaves on the barn foo
avail,
Till the thresher shall beat ont the chat
with his fail
'Tis only moment God chastens with pain;
Joy follows on sorrow like sunshine ON rain
Then bear thou what time on thy spirit shal
lay,
Be dumb, but when tempted to murmur the,
Ray Irving Barnard was borr
Oct. 21, 1885. and died May 9th
'o7, aged one year, six months and
eighteen days. He cometh forth
as flower and is cut down; he
tieeth also as a shadow and con.
tlnueth not" Such is Jobs des-
crlption of the transient life OF
man, and what a striking picture
does it afford of the little child cut
Oft In the tender years of infancy.
When little Ray saw the light,
what a beautiful flower was plant
ed in the home garden! The world
has rarely produced handsomer
one. And what gladness and ioy
it inspired by its beauty and its
fragrance. But it is cut down: it
continued not. Its memory and
Influences only remain to bless us
to-day.
have often spoken of the rare
beauty and noble appearance of
the child. A brainy, symmetrical
head that was prophecy of a
most brilliant career, finely chisel-
led features, perfect form and a
disposition is roseate and sunny
as summer morning, he drew all
hearts to himself. Dame Nature
is rarely more lavish in bestowing
endowments upon her children.
How early in life does the child
betray it's disposition! At a very
early age some of them repal us:
but toward others We are irres; st;
bly, drawn and the fbers of our
hearts entwine themselves about
their young lives. So we were
drawn to Ray Barnard. A flower
too tender for the rude blasts and
the chilling frosts of this world,
God has transplanted him in
heaven, where he will be clothed
In immortal bloom, protected by
the overhanging boughs of the
tree of life.
To-day we cut the fragrant sod.
With trembling hand asunder,
And lay this well beloved Of God.
Our dear, dead baby under,
Oh hearts that ache and ache afresh,
Oh, tears too blindly raining,
Our hearts are weak, yet being flesh,
Too strong for our restraining.
Sleep, darling. sleep! cold rain shall steep
Thy little turf made dwelling,
Thou wilt not know so far below,
what winds or storms are swelling
And birds shall sing in the warm spring.
And flowers bloom about thee;
Thou wilt not heed them love, but Oh,
The loneliness without thee.
Father, we will be comforted,
Thou vast the gracious Giver;
We yield him up-not dead, not dead,
To dwell with Thee forever,
Take our child! ours for day,
Thine while the ages blossom!
Ihis little shining head We lay
In the Redeemer's bossom.''
A lady who had buried her
treasures, few years ago wrote
me a letter, knowing that we had
buried little boy. In the letter
occurred these tender lires: "Our |
pure white lambs! SO tenderly |
gathered into the loving Shep-
herds fold. What a treasure in
Heaven! And how thankful we
should feel that they were given
into our keeping even a little
while, that We were esteemed wor-
Thy to be intrusted with such pre-
,iousness, and have the blessed
privilege of loving them SO dearly.
Now they are golden links in the
chain oflove binding us to Heav-
IN. Our beautiful darlings! Their
;ender feet were never earth STAIN
ID or pierced by the cruel thorns
along life's pathway."I thank God
hat in his infinite love he took my
precious babe to Himself, but oh,
low my lonely and aching heart
ebelled at the time. My empty
rms reached out in vain for my
lestling, and I was crushed to the
cry earth-could only moan in
ny heart, 81 want my baby back
gain" Now l can see it was all
one in loving kindness.
'I'n gratefully take the good find,
The good Of now and here;
Care and SORROW seem at last
Thro' memory's sunset air
Like mountain ranges over-past
In purple distance fair
[ close with the words of DIR. j. 6
|. Holland in Bittersweet:
The purest streams of Heavenly love,
Flow naturally never; 6
ut gnsh by pressure from above :
With Gods hand on the lever" l
I